


In the Crypt

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-24
Updated: 2007-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 06:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1635677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Discretion is a virtue.  Herbert doesn't have it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Crypt

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Fyre

 

 

"He was such a nice boy," Von Krolock said as he descended the stairs to the crypt. "Do you remember the way he used to crawl into my coffin in the summers?"

He didn't bother waiting for Koukol's response, or look around to see if the hunchback was listening. Of course the hunchback was listening. But for all he cared about the hunchback's thoughts, von Krolock might as well have been speaking to the walls or the chairs. With Herbert out for the night - again - any conversations were somewhat one-sided.

Young Herbert had tried to join his father in his coffin regardless of the season, for that matter, but von Krolock had put a quick stop to that. The castle could be an invitation to pneumonia in the best of times, he didn't need his son risking a pointless death in the crypt. Still, the child's desire to spend time with his father had been touching. His fascination with his father's undead state, not so much.

"Where did I go wrong? Out all night, flirting with the sunrise..." Though perhaps that wasn't so different from playing in the crypt during the Romanian winter. The boy had always had delusions of indestructibility. Von Krolock owned a handful of books on psychology lining the library shelves, but even without them he could have guessed the source of that particular quirk.

"Perhaps I should have waited longer. Allowed him to grow up a little more. Experience the world." He could have sent Herbert to Vienna, perhaps, or Prague. Paris. London. Anywhere, so long as it was away from his father's protection, where the boy would have to learn a sense of restraint. If only Herbert had ever shown any interest in studying abroad - or in studying, for that matter. Von Krolock was quite fond of the time he'd spent in Vienna; but he'd found that, with his changed condition, it was better for all involved if he spent the majority of his time in solitary pursuits, away from temptation. For a man of a scholarly bent, this was no great hardship. Herbert, alas, could not be called a man of a scholarly bent. Nor had von Krolock been thrilled with the idea of sending his son away from the castle still breathing, to be honest - yes, Herbert would enjoy seeing the world, to be sure, and might learn a thing or two along the way, but what if he should get himself killed by such trifles as highwaymen or ex-lovers or some mortal disease, and his father leagues away, useless? No, that was a terrible idea.

Too late now, in any case. He could just see his son left to his own devices in some foreign city, surrounded by beautiful youths. Herbert would have himself staked inside a week. Discretion was a most important virtue in von Krolock's mind; sure, the cowering villagers were amusing for a while, and sure, he might take advantage of the occasional bathroom skylight, but just because you were undead didn't mean you had to flaunt it. Of course, if the boy didn't get himself back to the crypt soon, the point would be moot-

"Father! I'm home! I've met the most delicious altar boy!"

On cue. Von Krolock would swear that the first few rays of sunlight followed Herbert into the crypt, before the hunchback slammed the door behind him.

"How nice. Tell me about it in the evening. Should we have another coffin brought in?"

"Oh, no, he's dead, just dead. But he was delicious, and he had a brother! Poor thing must be grieving terribly. I should really go comfort him. Tomorrow night, perhaps."

What had happened to those days when Herbert so enjoyed his father's company? Not that he was unpleasant now, in those rare moments that they actually saw each other. Perhaps it was simply that the appetite was still new to him; or perhaps, now that Herbert was one of the walking dead himself, his old father was just a little bit less impressive.

In any case, these constant all-night excursions had to end. Herbert could do with a more permanent companion, someone to provide a fresh perspective here at the castle. Von Krolock was starting to feel the loneliness of these halls himself.

"Herbert. What are your thoughts on a ball, here at the castle?"

 


End file.
